


Guns N' Dandelions

by I_am_Best



Series: Wander Writes [3]
Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Gen, idk how that got there, pre-ship or friendship, takes place right after the End of the Galaxy, there was a peepers/wander in the relationship tag for some reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 05:52:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11247642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_Best/pseuds/I_am_Best
Summary: It's time for Emily Ripov to learn a new approach.





	Guns N' Dandelions

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lil nomad hunter fic a long time in the making, inspired by a headcanon by [hamatopurity](https://hamatopurity.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.

"There's my ship, the _Not-stromo_ ," Ripov said, jerking her head toward a blaster-scarred mess. Ship was the polite thing to call it, as it had clearly seen better days even before this final battle. It seemed mostly just scrap held together by duct tape and a prayer now.

"She's... lovely," he said as Ripov led him over to it. Other people were streaming to other ships, though Dominator's bots had damaged most of them right away, trying to ground the ragtag rebellion (Wander giggled, thinking that was a good idea for a band name). Their not-so-secret-anymore planet didn't have much in the way of resources to rebuild a galaxy, so Wander had volunteered to go scouting and Ripov, who he didn't know that well but knew was a friend of Hatey's, had offered her ship for the job. Sylvia for _some_ reason didn't want him wandering off alone, and Ripov reminded Wander a little bit of Sylvia back in her bounty hunter days, so it was a good match so far as Wander could tell. He was always happy to make new friends.

"Yep, we've been through it all together, " Ripov said, patting the hull before she lowered the ramp and ushered Wander inside. "She's a good ol' girl."

Wander had to smile fondly at that, since he had his own good ol' girl across the planet, working hard despite her aches and pains. His smile dropped as the hatch sealed shut behind him, though, leaving him in the faint glow of the ship's indicator lights and screens. Sylvia had almost had a lot worse than a few scrapes thanks to him. She'd almost _died_. It was a sobering thought that he was trying to avoid, but that just made it scream all the louder in the quiet of his mind.

Ripov left him to get the ship off the ground with a collection of mechanical groans, clanks, and wheezes. Wander drifted, nosing around idly, trying not to let his thoughts get too dark. It was all over. This was a happy occasion. They were rebuilding.

He found a small orange and green squeaky toy half-hidden behind some boxes and squeezed it. It gave a gaspy little whistle. Wander smiled, thinking of Captain Tim playing with it. Things were good now.

* * *

Ripov found Wander curled up under a shelf, Captain Tim's toy squeezed tightly in his grip, tears drowning his eyes. None had fallen, yet, but the dam was threatening to break.

She squatted down next to Wander, hands draped over her knees. Being a grizzled loner, she didn't really _do_ emotions. She'd just seen too much. But Wander wasn't like that, from what she'd seen and heard of him. He was all soft and squishy and cried over squeaky toys that bore an odd resemblance to him for some reason. "Are you okay?"

Wander shook his head and curled tighter into himself.

Welp, that was it for ideas on how to comfort him. Ripov stood up and was about to walk away when he sniffled. She sighed. He and Hater were cut from the same, mopey cloth.

Ripov crouched back down. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Wander nodded, but it took him a while to say anything. Ripov got the sinking feeling this entire ordeal would go like that.

"I almost got her killed," he said quietly, hands wringing strangled squeaks from the toy. "Syl was nearly murdered cause of me n my stupid optimism. You all were. I coulda killed you all."

At that last confession, Wander wrung so hard the squeaky toy's head twisted right off. They both stated at the pieces.

Then the tears began to fall.

Ripov bent a little further to get her arms around Wander and pull him out from his hidey-hole. Time to learn how to be comforting, if only to avoid pissing off his Zbornak. Ripov had heard of Sylvia, though she'd not been going by that name when she made her reputation. Shotgun Syl, the roughest, toughest bounty hunter out there. Ripov didn't want to mess with her, nice-version or no.

Wander was soft and warm in her arms, like a large cat. One that was soppy and purring unhappily. Ripov patted his head and said "there-there," but, for some reason, her awkward reassurances did nothing to stem his tears. Since he seemed okay with just laying sadly in her arms, though, Ripov climbed carefully to her feet and returned to the pilot's seat. Autopilot only did so much when space was littered with planetary debris.

"Sorry," Wander muttered. "'M supposed to be helpin'."

"There's nothing to help with yet," Ripov said. "It's just wrecked planets and junk right now."

Wander was silent, so maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"Look, nobody knew how to handle that Dominator lady. You did what you thought was best -- we all did -- and it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

"I guess..."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as dead, dark chunks of planets drifted past the window. Ripov could see Wander's eyes glittering in the gloom as he watched them. She was shit with words, but she knew how silence ate at a person, like the arachnomorph who chewed right through her leg.

To combat it, Ripov started humming one of her people's traditional war songs, like she did to fill the quiet when traveling alone. She was painfully aware of Wander, to start, though he was quiet and still enough that Ripov thought he might have fallen asleep. As she got caught in the familiar rhythms, her voice grew stronger.

Eventually, the _Not-stromo's_ scanners lit up on a mangled planet with foliage already blanketing its surface. Ripov let her song die away as she got the ship into position to land. Soon, she realized Wander was staring at her. His eyes were big and bright, a far cry from his sad looks before.

"What?"

"You sing _beautifully_ , Miss Ripov."

Ripov flushed a darker purple. "It's nothing special."

Wander scrambled around in her lap until he was on his knees, hands braced on her shoulders so he didn't fall off. "Don't be silly! It was wonderful. What was the song you were singin'?"

"Just an old war song. Not something you'd like in context."

"Pshaw," Wander said as he clambered off of Ripov's lap. She almost immediately missed the warmth and weight. It had been... nice, having another presence. Between Hater and Wander, old wounds she'd never tended to properly were beginning to open again, reminding her of the good men and women and others she'd lost but never got to mourn. Ripov had been traveling alone too long.

Wander flung open the ship's door before Ripov could get there and was already on the ground by the time she whipped around the corner, gun drawn, eyes scanning the terrain. Of course, nobody was here. They'd fled when Dominator targeted the planet.

But she'd lost Wander. Ripov glared at the dense greenery, looking for his orange coloring.

"I don't think we need weapons now, Ms. Ripov," Wander said right in front of her. Her gaze dropped to just below eye-level. He had a flower in his hand. It was small, simple. A yellow puff like him. Wander held it up for her to take.

"Did you know you can sing to flowers and it helps them grow?"

"Gardening isn't really my style," she said flatly.

Undeterred, Wander took her hand, tangling their fingers around the stem of the flower, and suddenly Ripov felt like she was the one out of place as he pulled her along. Everything was peaceful and quiet, something she'd never let herself experience. She didn't want to grow complacent. Her grip tightened on her gun.

"Songs are important," Wander said, movements unguarded and trusting that this planet was safe. "Songs are the essence of y'alls cultures, things you don't need t' be able to read or write to know and carry with ya. Even war songs. I understand wars hafta be fought. I ain't naive. They're th' growin' pains of civilizations.  But y'all've lost your civilizations when Dominator destroyed your planets. So don't be ashamed you can sing, or that ya sing war songs. All you have left are songs..." Wander trailed off, looking into some middle distance that made Ripov wonder if he wasn't talking about himself, before he added thoughtfully, "Flowers don't care if they're hearin' a lullaby or a haka."

He let go of her hand when he found some fruit-bearing trees, and Ripov watched him scale one like a cat to begin plucking any ripe ones he could find, tossing them into his hat. She looked down at the flower, something she'd consider a weed if she saw it any other day.

Ripov had thought Wander was soft and squishy, untried by fires and pain, but maybe it was her that was untried. He was soft, and he was squishy, but that made him resilient. He could take a hit and spring back. He had earlier. She was hard and brittle, and when she wasn't throwing herself into conflicts, into fights, she felt the solitude she'd cocooned herself in on her path of vengeance would break her apart.

Wander called out to Ripov, the only warning she got that he'd chucked a fruit at her to taste. She dropped her gun instead of the flower to catch it.

* * *

When they were back on the ship -- sweaty, dirty, and with plenty of wood, edibles, and seeds -- Wander invited himself into Ripov's lap for takeoff.

"Can ya sing your song again?" he asked her, almost shyly. "I mean if ya don't mind."

Ripov reflexively reached up to make sure the flower he'd given her was still tucked into her hair, a little burst of brightness in all the black, then dropped both hands to her console.

"If you'll share one of yours with me," she said as they lifted off.

"Deal!" Wander nestled in on her lap, eyes big with excitement, mouth a little u of a smile. For his talk of no weapons, he sure knew how to weaponize cuteness. At least he wasn't thinking about death and blame anymore.

"I can't promise it'll be good."

"It'll be great!"

She smiled at his positivity. That was the attitude she'd take into this new galaxy. Things will be great. She'll help to make it great.

Ripov began to sing.


End file.
